


Memories Of A Boreal Doctor (Or: Why Jack Harkness Is A Sub-Character)

by DeductionIsKey



Series: -Unfinished Writing Prompts- [2]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BAMF Doctor, BAMF everyone, Cracks In The Universe, Eleventh Doctor Era, Episode: s05e05 Flesh and Stone, Gen, I Make A Mockery Of the Tag System, John is a Very Good Doctor, Light Angst, My Story Goes Ding When There's Stuff, Respect The Doctor and His Choices, Sherlock Might Not Like This, The Doctor Is John Watson, Time Lord John Watson, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeductionIsKey/pseuds/DeductionIsKey
Summary: Sherlock grumbled, looking up and seeing a man getting out of the dark blue car. The man confidently strode toward them, with a cocky grin and shining eyes. John got up, nudging Sherlock. "Doctor John Watson." He said, putting his hand forward. The man- Jack Harkness- smiled and took his hand. "You're a doctor all right." John's face crinkled in confusion. Sherlock pushed past John and took Jack's hand. "Why, hello." Jack said, his eyes looking over Sherlock. "Stop it." John snapped, then paused. 'What?'-Or where John is the Doctor with Horrid Fashion Sense In Either Dimension-





	1. In Which Jack Harkness Is Introduced

**Author's Note:**

> I was flipping through Ao3 one day when I noticed the surprising lack of TimeLord John stories. So I thought I'd take a crack at it. Enjoy!  
> ~Rose Kakos

 

  
John Watson was as ordinary as a bloke could be. Next to the only 'Consulting Detective' Sherlock Holmes, even more so. In Aghanistan he had been normal, at Bart's he had been normal and the pattern continued into his time at Baker Street. Sure, he liked a good chase, and he was certainly an adrenaline junkie, some would say, but he was normal. Normal as Gregory Lestrade with his crashed marriage and Sally Donovan with her obvious illicit affairs. Normal as Philip Anderson with his obsession with all things Jurassic and Forensics. John Hamish Watson was normal. Right?  
-  
He hated the year 1913. didn't know why exactly, but the year just sent up a bad rush through him. He always figured it was the thought of all those people, not knowing that the first World War was about to begin, while they were getting on with their lifes and raising their children. It might have been the reason he hated the chapter on the 'Women Of World War I' and how he had read about the widows being left behind and discriminated against. He thought it was ridiculous, when it had hardly been their fault at their husbands passing, wither natural or otherwise. If asked about his dislike on that age by his sister one 'Let's Not Mention The Liquor Cabinet' night that they had partaken in the early days before her wedding to Clara, he had answered that he didn't think hate was quite the right word for it. More of a nostalgic feeling in him, like he had left something behind and didn't really know what. Of course, that had sent a hiccup of laughter through Harry and they had continued onto other topics, but John's mind had been on his words that entire night.  
-  
He liked the name John. Now everyone has or has had a certain kinship with their name, being associated with that one word for at least a bit of their lifes. Wither they changed their name or kept it after their wedding day, John liked to think that everyone had once cherished the name that they had been gifted with. John's like of his name might of been a bit beyond the general liking of your birthright. It was almost as if he was a by-stander and that he had chosen an analysis that he had slowly grown fond of. His namesake, John Smith also was accompanied by the feeling of something forgotten, but when brought up, again, he couldn't describe it. John Hamish Watson was a ~~**_TimeLord,`_**~~ normal.  
-  
He owned several watches. He loved watches for their antique feel, and everytime he passed an antique show he never could resist the urge to go in. He would look at a watch for ages, smile at the employee at the cash register and than discard it after examining the inside. That was always his favourite part of looking at watches, opening up the center. It filled him with tension for some weird, weird reason. There could be anything inside the middle, carving or ~~_**gold light,gold light REMEMBER**_~~ elaborate design. The rush of disappointment he got when it opened to something plain was worth the glorious search amongst the wreckage of time and ~~_**SPACE TARDIS THE YEAR THAT NEVER WAS**_~~ history. He would find a watch he thought fit him, buy it, but than shake his head and give it to a random stranger. They never quite fit.  
-  
Sherlock was a genius. John knew this straight away when he looked him in the eye and said, "So that's it then?" that day in Bart's. Sherlock noticed things, pointed them out with a dramatic flourish and than raced off to find the next things to deduce, show and run after. John never could quite figure out why Sherlock took an interest in him, what with mad plotting and subtle insults. He was a normal doctor, ~~_**Doctor Who?**_~~ trying to help people that wanted and needed help and offering support to those who were already gone. It was tiring, so tiring but John loved it. He would never refuse anyone a chance at goodbye. ~~_**Burning up a sun just to say goodbye.**_~~ Ever.  
-  
"Why watches?" Sherlock asked one day after chasing a wanna-be gang that had robbed a woman's home. ~~ _ **Some People Live More In Twenty Years-**_~~  
"What?" John said, flipping through the channels of the telly. Sherlock rolled his eyes.  
"Watches. You love watches for some absurd reason and I can't see why. Is it because of your mother? Or maybe your idiotic sist-"  
John cut him off, not wanting to listen to his hate speech about how Harriet had the brain of a sow and how John doesn't need her help, nor want it. "Nah. I just like them. They're nice."  
Sherlock huffed, turning over in his impossibly small chair. "Fine." He said and stapled his fingers. "Your sister has started on her 'habits' again." John sighed.

-  
Crimes, like all things, if serious, went to the government. And the government was Mycroft.  
-

  
"Hello, Brother Mine." Mycroft's voice was heard over the speaker. John sighed, pulling his glove on with one hand, while holding the phone against his ear and shoulder. "Not Sherlock, Mycroft. It's John." Silence was heard for a second and then, .. ~~ _ **"Did you just salute?" "No."**_~~ "Ah yes, John." John pulled on the other glove and gestured to the crouched Sherlock over the kitchen table where a plate of suspicious looking orange gunk was being examined. "Sherlock is.. busy. What do you want." Mycroft's slight chuckle was heard over the speaker. "Classified, I am afraid, Dr. Watson. If you could deliver the phone to Sherlock that would be marvelous." John rolled his eyes, and shifted the phone to his left hand. "Here, Sherlock" He said and held the phone up to the detective's ear. "Mycroft." Sherlock said with a scowl. "Whatever you want, the answers no." A murmur was heard on the other end, and Sherlock's eyebrows rose. "John? Why would they want him?" Another murmur. "It's bloody Torchwood, they think they're entitled to everything." John leaned closer. He made out, "Jack- Ha-ness, Harrie- Jones." John's eyes narrowed. What did the former Prime Minister have to do with this? Sherlock's teeth gritted. "Fine." He said in a irritated voice. "We're coming." John nudged Sherlock with his free hand. "Sherlock, I have to go to work, remember? Sarah called me in." Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. "Eh. You've fallen sick." He took the phone from John's hand and hang up. "Come along, John." He said, grabbing his coat and scarf. "Let's go meet Jack Harkness."  
-  
"So what's Torchwood?" John said in the black cab Sherlock had managed to wave down.  
Sherlock looked over from the window. "We're not exactly meeting the Torchwood Institute so much as their head, Jack Harkness. For some reason he wants to see you, so Mycroft called me." Sherlock scowled. "Why you? You're just a doctor. Why would Jack Harkness wan- John?"  
~~_**A FRIEND OF MINE OH DON'T START WORK DONE? DOCTOR DETECTOR TORCHWOOD? FACE OF BOE? CAUSE YOU'RE WRONG. YOU'RE WRONG. WRONG.**_~~

  
"Yes?" John shook his head. "Sorry." Sherlock nodded. "We're here." He opened the door, and rushed out, leaving John to pay the cabby. John handed the disgruntled man the money. "Thanks." He said getting out onto the curb. While the cab sped away, he looked around the play park where they had been asked to be, seeing Sherlock looked glum and reminiscing of an Ten year old on one of the wood benches. He walked over to him, sitting next to him. "Here, then?" He said, shifting his position to better give Sherlock room. "Where is he?" Sherlock pointed to a dark blue car pulling up. 'Tardis Blue.' John thought, than shook his head. 'What?'

  
Sherlock grumbled, looking up and seeing a man getting out of the dark blue ~~_**TARDIS**_~~ car. The man conveniently strode toward them, with a cocky grin and shining eyes. John got up, nudging Sherlock. "Doctor John Watson." He said, putting his hand forward. The man- Jack Harkness- smiled and took his hand. "You're a doctor all right." John's face crinkled in confusion. Sherlock pushed past John and took Jack's hand. "Why, hello." Jack said, his eyes looking over Sherlock. "Stop it." John snapped, then paused. 'What?' Sherlock looked over at him with surprise. Jack grinned. "You're in there somewhere." He gestured toward the blue car. "We can convene at a Cafe if you want." Sherlock nodded sharply. "Come on, John." He grabbed his shoulder for a second, let go, and than made toward the car. Jack gestured to the back of him. "Ready?" John nodded mutely.  
-  
"I'll just have a black coffee, please." Jack Harkness said to the barista, winking at her. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "We'll have nothing." Sherlock said pulling John to the nearest table. John looked apologetically back at the confused barista. "Sherlock!" He hissed. Jack sat next to them. "I have something for you." He said, reaching into his pocket and taking out a small decorated watch. John looked at it with fascination. It was ~~_**HIS, FOB WATCH?, I AM THE DOCTOR** _~~ beautiful, with intricate details and a swirling pattern. "I need you to open this, sir." Jack said looking seriously for the first time since their meeting at the park. 

"Wait, what?" John said looking angrily at Jack. "You made us come all the way over here for me to open a watch?" Jack smiling, albeit sadly. "A special watch." He pushed it toward John. "You hear it don't you? And I think you recognized the colour of the Tardis too?" John shook his head. "The Tardis? Transversable Achronal Retrograde Domain in Spacetime would of been a better name than-" He broke off. "What? Who are you?" He stood up. He looked over at Sherlock, who was staring at him with wide eyes. "We have to leave." ~~_**THEY ALWAYS LEAVE.**_~~ "Go away." He said, his voice getting slightly desperate. Jack looked at him with pity. "I just need you to open the watch." John stepped back. His voice hardened. "Why?" He said, looking at Jack dead in the eye. "Because it will make those dreams go away, and-" He paused and look at Sherlock and than back at John. "And because we need you, Doctor." John looked at Sherlock, whose eyes were narrowed and set on Jack. Sherlock looked at him and grimaced, but nodded all the same. Jack smiled and handed him the watch, than said, "I'll see you when you wake up. Doctor."


	2. In Which A Watch Is Opened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He glanced around. "We are in a hospital correct?" Jack nodded. "After you passed out in the Cafe," He grimaced. "I was planned on taking you to Torchwood, but the barista screamed and called 999 before I could get the chance." He waggled his eyebrows. "I quite liked her-"  
> "I'm going to stop you right there." The Doctor interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 60 hits in two days! Wow, thanks guys. This one is a bit shorter than the other, but I ended it at a good point I think. Enjoy!  
> ~ Rose Kakos

 With perfectly still hands and a serious expression, John Hamish Watson moved to open the watch that had been given to him by the Head of the Torchwood Institute. Even with it not opened he could hear the voices of th- "Wait a second." Sherlock said pointing his finger at Jack Harkness. "You're expecting him to listen to you, a man he has never seen before today, about opening a watch that could have a fatal trap in it." He paused looking at Jack patronizingly. "Your coat, genuine, not a replica, of the early 1940 styles. Your overly flirtatious attitude toward me and John's reaction to it - wither it be \he work of this Fob Watch or not- says that you thrive on attention and usually get what you desire. I've read about Torchwood before, you seem positively horridly organized and pathetically small." He grimaced. "But you do have influence with Mycroft, which is a feat in itself, as well as going so far as to get in touch with us. You knew John before, did you bring the watch because you knew it would catch his interests? Or maybe because you require his services. For what exactl-" John decided that if he left Sherlock rambling on, this watch might as well grow rusty in his hand. He slowly set his shoulders and while Sherlock and Jack Harkness where still talking, opened the watch.

-  
~~_**RUN! I Give You The Air From My Lungs.. Never been punched by someone's Mum before.. ARE YOU MY MUMMY? Rose Tyler Rather A Dodgey Process This.I sang a song and the Daleks ran away You were fantastic.. so was I**_~~

  
~~_**New teeth? THIS IS A FIGHTING HAND She's looking rather tired isn't she? Killed by a Christmas Tree Sarah Jane Smith Who are you The Racnoss Donna Noble MARTHA JONES ROSE YOU CAME BACK WHY DoctorDonna Never Remember Wilfred He will knock three times I DON'T WANT TO GO** _ ~~

  
~~_**Geronimo No There's a Crack in my wall No mother? That house is too big Kissogram 12 Years Too Late Police? Fish Fingers and Custard Apples I hate Apples Getting Married ANgEl BoB I pReSUme They're laughing sir RORY THE CRACK NO** _~~  
-  
John -The Doctor, for they were one and the same- woke to the sight of blurry lights and a pounding head. "Ugh." He pronounced, shifting a bit in the bed. "It feels like I've been run over by a Racnoss." He heard a chuckle of laughter next to him, and he turned his head to view the source of the noice.  
"Jack! Buddy, old pal." He sat up in bed with a grimace. "Uh. After-effects of the Chameleon-Arch." Jack grinned at him with a little bit of relief and just sure giddiness. "Doctor, you've come to join the land of the living." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You're one of the most dead people in this hospital." He glanced around. "We are in a hospital correct?" Jack nodded. "After you passed out in the Cafe," He grimaced. "I was planned on taking you to Torchwood, but the barista screamed and called 999 before I could get the chance." He waggled his eyebrows. "I quite liked her-"

  
"I'm going to stop you right there." The Doctor interrupted. "Where's Sherlock?" Jack laughed, leaning forward in his seat a bit and looking at the Doctor with mirth in his eyes. "The madman? After proclaiming very colourfully your stupidity, he haled a cab out of there after asking me the hospital the 'idiotic' woman had carted you away to." Jack glanced over to the stain glass-etched door, his face crinkling. "He should be any minute now, if he seemed actually concerned about you as he looked."

 

The Doctor nodded, allowing silence to reign over the conversion for a minute to help his roaring head. After about 2 minutes though, he let the obvious take hold. "So, what do you need me for?" Jack reached down and brought up a black briefcase, reaching into it and grabbing a file labeled 'T3 Code Yellow Seven'. "We've been keeping tabs on the cracks like you said right before the Chameleon Arch Project." He handed the file to him and the Doctor opened it, seeing pictures of all the suspected cracks. "We've hypothesized that they might be growing bigger." He pointed to one of the photographs, depicting a small crack next to a Tesco building. He pointed to another picture, with the same surrounding area, but the crack significantly bigger.

  
"When you first went into disguise as John Watson, the cracks closed a bit." Jack said showing him another picture. "But a couple nights ago, Amy Pond contacted us, though she had no recollection of the event afterwords." Jack scrowled a bit, looking down to his left thigh. "She's got quite a kick, that one. Anyway, she just said, "The Silence Grows Strong." and then she hung up." Jack looked at him. "The cracks have been growing since, so I figured we would need your help."  
The Doctor nodded, throwing off his flannel sheets and sitting up. "Quite right, too. If the cracks are growing, something must have triggered them, though I doubt it was something as innocent as a phone call." He grinned looking over his familiar body. "So glad to have you back by the way. I did get tired off the limp." His eyes scanned the file again, looking for the more recent photos. "I'm going to need my Tardis, first of all. And then perhaps a fez?"  
-  
"So there's cracks here and here correct?" The Doctor pointed to the map of the United Kingdom, the red pins on it shining in the window. "If there's a pattern, I might.." He trailed off, watching as Jack put another pin on the lamented sheet. "Surrey? Why Surrey? Surrey one of the most-" A whish of a door was heard from behind him and he turned toward the noise. The sight of Sherlock, looking positively irate, only dropped his day down more. "Oh dear," He mumbled. "Drama."


	3. In Which Explanations, Head Butts, and Fashion Sense Are Discussed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack looked over at the Doctor curiously. "What 'six words' did you say to her?"  
> The Doctor coughed and than grinned. "Don't you think she looks tired?" Sherlock choked, looking over at him disbelievingly. The Doctor shrugged. "She had just shot a retreating race out of the sky, so I was a bit prickly at the time."

"Where's John?" Sherlock voice was laced with accusations and he whirled on Jack and the Doctor. "What have you done with him?" He looked at Jack with disgust in his eyes. "This was all a big ploy wasn't it? Wasn't it! You idiots at Torchwood," His arms gestured toward the Doctor. "You all think you have all this powe-"  
"Bit not good, Sherlock." Sherlock stopped abruptly, looking at the Doctor with disbelieving eyes. "We are in a hospital." He glanced pointedly around to there surroundings. Jack snorted. "Yeah, right. You're the king of being rude and not knowing it. I heard you once ate marmalade out of someone else's can, while figuring out if her daughter was a possessed Isosus." The Doctor shrugged. "It was orange flavoured."

  
"That proves it!" Sherlock said, like the fact of eating Citrus flavoured preserves proved that John was gone. "John would never go that! He always scowls me on it," He rolled his eyes at that. " "Don't do that, Sherlock." Put the nice ladies things down, Sherlock."

He glanced over at Jack who was laughing. "You hypocrite!" He proclaimed, than burst into another peal of laughter. The Doctor glared at him then stared at Sherlock a moment.

  
"Ow!" The Doctor had slammed his head up against Sherlock's quickly, causing Sherlock to step back while trying to steady him. "Arhh." He brought his head own for a second blow, Sherlock at the wall now. "I hate when I do that." He said, holding his head and nursing a powerful headache.  
"What did you do?" Jack asked with interest, looking at Sherlock looking dazed as the information floated into his head. The Doctor huffed. "I gave him, quite literally, a bucket-load about me. All Twelve Regenerations." He glanced down. "Well. Eleven. Anyway," He spun around to look at Sherlock. "Do you believe me now?"

 

Sherlock looked at him with fascination. "Can I-"

  
"No, you cannot do experiments with my head."

  
"Just a-"

  
"No."  
"You have two hear-"

  
"Yes. And also, no."

  
Sherlock, not to be discouraged by the slightest obstacle, gave him a look that said: "This conversation isn't over and you will bend to my will."

  
"Yes. Yes. Yes." The Doctor babbled, looking at the pictures again. "No.. Yes?" He groaned. "I hate to say this, but if Harriet Jones is out, than I might need Mycroft." He looked at Jack. "Is she out?" Jack nodded, than looked at him speculatively. "At the very beginning of her golden age too." He looked at Sherlock and stage-whispered. "I am positive it was," He coughed. "A accident." Jack looked over at the Doctor curiously. "What 'six words' did you say to her?" 

  
The Doctor coughed and than grinned. "Don't you think she looks tired?" Sherlock choked, looking over at him disbelievingly. The Doctor shrugged. "She had just shot a retreating race out of the sky, so I was a bit prickly at the time."

  
"But anyway, I might need Mycroft's help." Sherlock started. "No way. Mycroft is jus-"

  
"But, Mycroft also doesn't know who I am, yet. So this ought to be fun." Sherlock looked so smug his ego might just burst. The Doctor grinned at him. "Come on."  
-  
"And no of the reasons Mycroft was so curt was because he had no idea what was going on!" Sherlock said gleefully, amidst Jack's chuckles. The Doctor smiled, wanting to know something, but not wanting to waste Sherlock's moment. "What about Amy and Rory?" The Doctor asked Jack. "Did it work?"

_**"Rory! No!" Amy pushed against the Tardis door frantically, trying to get to Rory. "Doctor, do something!" The Doctor started to shake his head, but than an idea struck him. "Get the leaf-blower!" He yelled to Amy, grabbed the Chameleon Arch down from one of his compartments. Amy rushed to do what she was asked, though her expression showed as confused. The Doctor swung open the Tardis door, gesturing toward the leaf blower. "Okay." He shouted over the wind. "So, The Cracks slowly take your entire being, first started with your physical appearance. So if I pop in there with this." He held up the Chameleon Arch. "I'll probably won't die. Maybe. Hopefully. Because it will recognize that my existence draini- You know! Wibbely Wobbley Chameleonicly Stuff!" He pushed Rory out of the oncoming light and shoved on the headdress. "Look for me, Amy! I'll at least be in London!" He tossed her the watch as everything blurred.**_  
_**"Doctor!"**_  
-  
Jack nodded, looking over at Sherlock once and than back at the Doctor. "Amy brought the watch back to me after hearing about how I was acquainted with you." He shot the Doctor a half-angry glare. "And imagine my surprise when, Lo and Behold, you have a new face."

  
Sherlock looked over at the Doctor curiously. '' Yes, why did you have a different face as John Watson? The only psychical trait you seemed to have retained is the horrid fashion sense."

  
The Doctor looked at Sherlock with a frown. "Bow-ties are cool." He sat on the chair right next to his bed and spun with his legs. "Now, that is actually quite a good question. When Rory was in the cracks, his pyschical traits where slowly being sucked out yes?" He looked at Jack and Sherlock who nodded. "Well when I switched places with them using a rather marvelous plan via gorgeous and convenient leaf-blower, I took on some of his psychical traits, thus amazing sandy blond hair and brilliant," He shot a look at Sherlock. "jumpers."

  
He jumped off the chair with a spring and stood next to Sherlock. "Mycroft, yes?" Sherlock grinned in response.


End file.
